


Pills and Chilli

by therealfroggy



Category: A-Team (2010)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Viagra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-27
Updated: 2012-11-27
Packaged: 2017-11-19 17:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/575676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealfroggy/pseuds/therealfroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BA is sick of the others always drugging him, so he decides to drug them back - WITH VIAGRA! Written in response to a kink meme at LiveJournal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pills and Chilli

BA sat up with a grumble and rubbed the back of his neck. Damn, it hurt when he hit the floor like that. It wasn’t too bad when Face or Hannibal did the drugging, because they were usually in position to catch him when he fell, but Murdock simply stabbed the tranquillizers in and stood watching as BA toppled to the ground. BA had a sneaking suspicion the crazy fool found it funny.

Not to mention, his neck looked like a fucking needle cushion with all the marks from having a syringe jammed in there.

The big man smashed the closest breakable item – a small coffee table – just to feel better, but it just didn’t help. He was fucking angry, all right, and when BA was angry, normal men ran and hid. The only problem was, his team mates weren’t normal men.

“Aw, cheer up, Bosco, I made you that curry coconut –“ Murdock began, but didn’t even get to finish before BA had stampeded out of the room. He could hear Face and Hannibal laughing in the living room of their current safe-house as he headed upstairs to be angry in peace.

Either the crazies had begun increasing the dosage, or the helicopter flight must have been very short, if they’d managed to get him all the way home before he woke up. BA grumbled to himself all the way up to the bathroom; he splashed a little water on his face and at least felt like himself and fully awake. Then he opened the cupboard over the sink to look for some mouthwash. Those meds always left his mouth tasting funny, even if he hadn’t eaten any.

Whomever owned the safe-house Face had scammed them, had a very badly stocked cupboard, BA decided. Only a half-empty tube of toothpaste, a few boxes of aspirin and a few band-aids… And a nondescript glass full of little blue pills.

BA picked up the glass and stared at it. Viagra? What, had they broken into some old couple’s home? Then he remembered that he had a hell of a headache and his neck was sore as heck. BA looked at the pills in his hand, then at his reflection in the mirror, and grinned. Liked drugging him up, did they? It was time someone showed them crazy fools what it felt like to be all chemically incapacitated.

***

BA had to act fast. He knew Murdock was making dinner, and the crazy fool had been talking all week about the motor oil chilli he was going to make. With that much spice, nobody would taste the difference. BA put the glass of pills into his pocket and went into the kitchen.

“Hey, Murdock, was that your puppet I saw Billy chewing on upstairs?” he asked casually, trying to look bored.

“Billy!” Murdock yelled, dropping the ladle and running for the stairs. “Leave Spongo alone!”

BA moved quickly. He dumped the entire glass of Viagra into the kettle of sluggishly boiling chilli and gave it a few good stirs, listening intently for sounds of Murdock all the time. When he was certain the pills were dissolved or getting there, he put the ladle back in the kettle where Murdock had left it and sauntered out of the kitchen.

“Hey, Face,” he called, noticing the other man sitting in the living room with a cold beer. “That stuff you gave me messed with my head, fool. I’m gonna catch a few z’s, save me some chilli, alright?”

“Making no promises,” Face replied. “Murdock mentioned motor oil.”

BA grinned to himself and went up the stairs, then stretched out on a convenient bed with a book. He was going to have fun not being witness to it as they embarrassed themselves.

***

“Delicious, Murdock,” Face said with a wink. Hannibal looked slightly green about the gills. Murdock looked healthy as a farm animal.

“It’s the oil that does it, Facey,” Murdock said, grinning happily.

“Next time, I think I might get Chinese take-out,” Hannibal said, draining about a gallon of water from the jug on the table. “You sure didn’t save on the spice there, captain.”

The three men retired to the living room, for the first time in weeks not having things to do. For the first time in months, actually. So how to get the most out of the evening? A cold beer or three, of course, in front of the TV. There was even some half-assed old movie on.

About half an hour into the movie, Face began to register that this was not his normal reaction to watching Stallone being defrosted in the future. It wasn’t even his normal reaction to seeing Sandra Bullock in tight pants; he was getting inexplicably hard in his pants – watching _Demolition Man_. Face shifted, crossing his legs casually, trying to cover up the fact that he was currently sporting an erection.

Sitting two feet away from his colonel and with Murdock nesting on a pillow near their feet. Oh, crapanola.

He chanced a discreet glance at Hannibal to make sure the older man hadn't noticed – and found Hannibal mirroring his position, legs crossed and an awkward look on his face. Face frowned. Apparently he wasn't the only one having a problem with Bullock's tight pants or Stallone's defrosting.

“Say, gentlemen, am I the only one finding this moving picture more, uh, stimulatin' than it ought to be?” Murdock suddenly asked, sounding completely innocent.

Face laughed, at first, but then quickly sobered up as he realized they were all in the same predicament. All three of them were hard, at the same time – for whatever reason. Face tried to pretend he hadn't heard Murdock; he couldn't very well go ahead and confirm it out loud. Hannibal was beginning to look distinctly uncomfortable.

“I'm, uh, going to bed,” Face said, then got up and left the living room as fast as he could. He escaped to the bedroom he shared with Murdock and tossed off his clothes, then crawled under the covers and turned to face the wall. He would just sleep this off; after all, he wasn't about to jack off in the bed they had to share and he just knew that if he went into the bathroom to do it there, the other two would know what he was doing.

Also, Face felt the distinct need to hide. He knew he was an attractive man, and reasonably well endowed, but he didn't feel comfortable having Hannibal and Murdock see him with an erection. Not when he knew for a fact that Hannibal was hung like a freaking horse and Murdock, well, who knew. He just didn't feel _that_ comfortable with his sexuality.

Down in the living room, Hannibal was cursing inwardly. Damn Murdock for practically telling them he was aroused! As if Hannibal didn't have a problem already, ignoring the attractions of his team every day. He'd come to terms with his preferences in his youth, but then along came Face, Murdock and BA and damn it if Hannibal didn't turn into a randy, old letch just thinking about them. And there Murdock was, sitting at his feet and informing him that...

“Damn it,” Hannibal muttered, then got off the couch and set off up the stairs. He could probably get rid of his little problem in the bathroom, then go to bed and pretend nothing ever happened.

Except for the fact that the bathroom was adjoining to the master bedroom, which he shared with BA. Hannibal grit his teeth and grabbed the doorknob to said bedroom, hoping that BA was at least sleeping so he could sneak past him.

Hannibal quickly found out, however, that the door was locked. He pulled on it again. Still locked.

“BA?” he inquired, rattling the door in aggravation. “BA, you in there?”

“You can bunk with me and Faceman, if you want,” Murdock said cheerfully, standing behind Hannibal so suddenly the older man almost flinched. “Got lots of room.”

“Thanks, but I really -”

“Are you sure you weren't having any untoward reactions to that movie, boss? Because I was. And I think Face was. And I don't think we ought to involve Bosco, see,” Murdock said, as if explaining something very reasonable to another psych patient.

“Involved in...?” Hannibal asked, still not turning around. He was very decidedly facing the door to his and BA's bedroom.

“Getting rid of the untoward reactions,” Murdock said, still in that calm, reasonable voice, then grabbed Hannibal's shoulder. “Come on, boss, let's get started.”

Hannibal, still protesting that he just wanted to go to bed, allowed himself to be led down to the next door – the one to Face and Murdock's bedroom. Murdock sensibly – too sensibly, Hannibal thought; he almost didn't recognize his pilot – locked the door behind them, then jumped onto the bed, bouncing next to the lump under the covers who was apparently Face.

“Facey! Hannibal's game, what about you?”

There was an indistinct mumble, but Hannibal could tell the kid wasn't asleep. His own erection was getting almost painful and he really, really needed to get out so Murdock wouldn't drag him along into some irrational scheme again.

“Y'all are just the slowest today,” Murdock insisted, then shifted off the bed, grabbed two fistfuls of cover, and pulled hard – dragging the covers off Face in a rush.

Face yelped and turned quickly onto his stomach, giving a wince as he did so. “Murdock! Let a man have his beauty sleep, would you? I don't know what crazy games you got Hannibal to play, but I'm not joining in!”

“Aaw, Facey, don't be like that,” Murdock said, and the pout he put on made Hannibal bite back a groan and turn to stare at the wall. “How do you expect to get to sleep like that, anyway?”

“Like what?” Face asked. The kid just had to ask, and Hannibal cursed under his breath for it.

But instead of replying, Murdock just shoved a hand between Face and the mattress and apparently found his target. Face gave an inarticulate sound of pleasure, but quickly pushed to his hands and knees, staring at the pilot.

“Murdock?”

“I find myself having just the same problem,” Murdock said with a grin. “Be a gentleman and help a captain out, Facey?”

Hannibal made one last, desperate attempt at escape – he began inching towards the door, doing his best to mentally shut down his brain so he wouldn't get even harder in his khakis, hearing all that. But before he'd managed to unlock it, Murdock tackled him into the door and crowded into his space, staring with wide, guileless eyes at his boss.

“Don't you want to help out, too, Hannibal?” he asked, sounding so damn _innocent_ Hannibal about burst a vein.

“I don't think I should,” he said, and his own voice came out deep and husky. “Wouldn't be appropriate.”

“Oh, screw appropriate!” Face suddenly said, and the kid joined Murdock, crowding right along with his friend. The conman had that wild look in his eyes. “You're hard, too? Both of you?”

“Quite a coincidence,” Hannibal said, trying his darndest best to tear his eyes away from Murdock's pleading eyes and Face's tempting lips. “Except I don't believe in coincidences.”

“The chilli!” Face exclaimed, eyes suddenly alight in comprehension. “Murdock, did you put something in the chilli?”

“Yup, motor oil and beans,” Murdock began, ticking things off on his fingers, still looking pleadingly at Hannibal. “Tomatoes, Tabasco, ground meat, red peppers -”

“No, I mean, did you put... something not food in there?” Face asked, but his focus was slipping and his eyes were going a bit dreamy as he looked from Hannibal to Murdock and back again.

Hannibal was beginning to feel light-headed. It could have to do with the erection that refused to go away, or the fact that two men he'd been silently wanting for years were pressed up against him, touching their bodies to his almost brazenly. Wait, strike that, Hannibal thought as Murdock shifted a bit, definitely brazenly.

“Oh, fuck it all to hell,” Hannibal muttered, then leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Face's. When the younger man gave a groan in agreement, he pulled off and switched to Murdock, giving him, too, an enthusiastic lip-lock.

“Let's get naked,” Murdock suggested cheerfully, then began tugging at everyone's clothes at the same time.

“Are you sure -” Hannibal began, but Face silenced him by tugging his t-shirt up over his head.

“It's a good idea, yeah, we're sure,” Face said, cheeks flushed and eyes playful. “Don't even start with your fucking plans now, Hannibal. There's nothing to worry or wonder about. We're hard, we're reasonably attractive men -”

Hannibal snorted. “Understatement of the century.”

Face laughed, “- and we're not going to get any sleep at all until Murdock gets off. C'mon, boss. Just get with the program for once.”

Things went rapidly downhill – or uphill, depending on your perspective – from there. Murdock tore Face's best shorts, Hannibal heard buttons hit the walls as he ripped the shirt from his pilot, someone stepped on someone's foot at least twice and Face got an elbow to the ribs before they made it to the bed.

But they made it. Hannibal found himself on his back, looking with a certain measure of apprehension up at the maniacal grin stretching Murdock's kiss-swollen lips. He really, really wanted these men, but how much of their mutual attraction had to do with that mysterious chilli? And with Murdock, who could really tell?

“I can see why you're colonel and Facey isn't, sir,” Murdock said with a snicker, stroking Hannibal's dick with a surprisingly certain grip. “Puts me in mind of a rodeo show I saw once.”

Face's lips began to form into an irresistible pout. “Fuck you, Murdock, I'm not that much smaller than Hannibal.”

Hannibal groaned and covered his face with his hands. “Boys! Please, would you... not act like...”

But they were really just being themselves, and all things considered, Hannibal did like them just so. He relaxed, grinned up at Murdock where the crazy man was straddling his legs, and grabbed the pilot's shoulder, pulling him down for a kiss. “Rodeo show, eh?”

“Mmhm,” Murdock murmured, nipping a little on Hannibal's lips. If the older man didn't know better, he'd think that the redistribution of blood had made Murdock saner. “I'd sure like to ride this bull.”

“Lookie here what I found,” Face whispered in Murdock's ear, dangling a bottle of something in front of Murdock. The pilot gave a gleeful whoop and grabbed it, throwing the cap to one side and pouring a good splash into his hand.

Hannibal recognized the scent. “CLP? Are you serious?”

“Well, I've got to use this crap for _something_ ,” Face said, sharing a grin with Murdock. “It's no good for lubing firearms, but for lubing a pilot...”

Hannibal groaned. “Worst joke ever, kid.”

“Mm. Now let Murdock do what he does best, colonel, aside from flying,” Face said, and his eyes grew dark with lust.

Murdock was already stroking Hannibal's dick again, this time with weapons oil all over his hands. The older man had to clench his teeth to stop himself from groaning in pleasure; the pilot's grip was slick and steady, and then Murdock was positioning himself, leaning over Hannibal, knees to either side of the colonel's hips.

“Oh, _boss_ ,” Murdock gasped, pushing down until he was seated fully on Hannibal's cock. His eyes rolled back and he rocked himself back and forth a few times. His body just took it, clenching hotly around Hannibal like he'd done this a thousand times. “My, my, Facey, you should _feel_ this!”

“Maybe some other day. But I'm pretty sure I'll feel what Hannibal's feeling pretty soon,” Face said, his voice husky. “Bend down a little, HM.”

Hannibal watched, mesmerised, as Face grabbed the oil and slicked himself up, then began fumbling about behind Murdock – prepping him for something Hannibal hadn't even been able to think about without getting hard, for the past few years. He saw all this over Murdock's shoulder, because the pilot was pressed chest to chest with him, nibbling at his neck. Murdock was surprisingly limber, Hannibal noted numbly, before he could feel Face's fingertips spread more lube over where he was joined with Murdock.

“I wish I had a camera right now,” Face said, that cocky grin back in place. “I wouldn't ever rent a porn movie again. Now, who wants to see if we can make like Hannibal's plans and come together?”

Hannibal barked a laugh, which was about as lucid as he could be with Murdock's body clenching around his dick. “Funny, kid. Get fucking started, would you?”

And Face did; Hannibal could feel his fingers pushing inside Murdock, right along with the colonel's dick. That was just too hot for words and Hannibal growled with impatience.

“Face, c'mon, I can take it,” Murdock begged. “Now, Facey!”

The moment when Face replaced his fingers with his dick and fucking _joined_ Hannibal inside the babbling, writhing pilot, Hannibal's eyes rolled back in his skull and he saw white. Murdock was gasping, twitching in their arms and Face was moaning like a whore and if Hannibal hadn't been having sex since before these kids were in junior high, he'd have lost it right then and there. As it were, he was nothing if not persistent, and he was hell-bent on enjoying every last second of this.

“God damn, this is tight,” Face said, voice husky and low. “Murdock, you okay?”

But Murdock was better than okay; he was great and he didn't have time for Face's slow-and-gentle game. He placed his hands on Hannibal's shoulders for leverage and began bucking, rocking, _riding_ the two men inside him. Hannibal's mouth was hanging open; the colonel couldn't have said a word if he tried and Murdock was doing all the talking, anyway.

“Why 'aven't we tried this before, eh?” Murdock gasped, his accent turning inexplicably alien. “Waste of time, not doin' this regular, like!”

Hannibal had to agree; the hungry look on his pilot's face as he rode them made practically _everything_ else seem like a waste of time. And the spectacular play of muscle across Face's chest as he thrust hard into the bucking body in front of him, was more arousing than any porn Hannibal had ever seen.

“Jus' like that rodeo bull,” Murdock said with a moan. “Hannibal! Oh, Facey!”

“Can't we gag him or something?” Face laughed breathlessly. “Murdock, hey, you're not British, you know.”

But Murdock kept babbling, ranting, riding the two of them into a frenzy, and Hannibal couldn't stand anymore; he needed to make Murdock come _now_. He grasped the pilot's bobbing erection and began stroking quickly, panting with the effort of not coming yet.

One of Face's hands joined his, and Murdock earned his name, howling like a mad animal as he orgasmed, his come spurting between their fingers and spattering Hannibal's stomach.

“Damn,” Hannibal muttered, still thrusting lazily into Murdock's body. The ripples of the other man's orgasm had almost brought Hannibal to the edge, Murdock's clenching body making him and Face groan in concert. But he was still hard, and he wanted to see Face come before he finished himself.

“Wow, boss,” Face muttered, stroking a hand down Murdock's back. “I've never made him sound like _that_ before.”

“You boys do this often?” Hannibal growled, finding himself rather jealous to have been left out of the fun.

“Sometimes,” Murdock purred, pressing himself further down and nuzzling against Hannibal's collar bone. “When I'm coming off the brain candy.”

Face's finger wound into Murdock's hair and gave it an affectionate tug, lifting the other man's head just enough so that Face could kiss his neck. Then he let Murdock snuggle into Hannibal's chest again, hips pumping shallowly.

“Want to finish this, boss?”

Murdock shifted a little, and then Hannibal felt himself slip out. He began protesting, but Murdock silenced him with a kiss. When they broke it, Hannibal could see that Face was still fucking Murdock, who was now on hands and knees above the colonel. Murdock had the most amazing expression on his face, eyes wide open and gaze blurry, and Hannibal had to kiss him again. Moments later, he heard Face cry out and saw his lieutenant's fingers tighten on Murdock's hips until his knuckles were white.

“Fuck me,” Face gasped, pulling out of Murdock before joining the other man in leaning over Hannibal, both of the younger men kissing whatever skin they could reach. “Hannibal. Fuck me?”

Hannibal groaned again. “You two are going to be the death of me!”

“Well, it ain't fair that I got to ride that and Face didn't,” Murdock said, and he was looking sleepy and mussed up and adorable.

Hannibal growled and rolled to his knees, pushing Face down on the bed in front of him. “I've been waiting for this,” he said, feeling around the floor for the bottle of oil. He found it and emptied the rest of it into his hand. “Been waiting for this for _years_.”

“Then it's about time you did something about it, right?” Face said, his post-orgasmic lazy grin wreaking havoc on Hannibal's self control. He spread his legs and reached for the older man, trying to pull him closer. “Not like you're the only one who's been thinking about this.”

With a minimum of preparation, Hannibal slicked Face up and moved in close. He began pushing, and Face's body gave easily, almost like Murdock's had. With a moan at the thought that his boys were so ready for him, Hannibal began thrusting, slowly at first, just watching Face's expression. His body was sensitive after his own orgasm; whenever Hannibal pressed in deep, the conman cried out and writhed, his hands fisted in the pillow and the sheets.

“You're so pretty, Facey,” Murdock murmured, and leaned in between them to kiss Face. “Ain't he pretty, boss?”

“God damn beautiful,” Hannibal gasped. “Both of you.”

And with his mouth full of Murdock's tongue, his dick surrounded by Face's excruciating heat, Hannibal finally let go and came. His shout of pleasure was muffled by the pilot's lazy kiss, and he didn't break the kiss until Hannibal sank down, shivering with little aftershocks of sensation, landing heavily on top of Face.

“Fuck,” Hannibal muttered into the skin of Face's neck.

“That was ten kinds of amazing, boss,” Face said, a relaxed grin on his lips. “Want to do it again tomorrow?”

“What about right now?” Murdock asked, his crazy smile back in place. “I'm up for it.”

Face groaned, then pulled the pilot down to snuggle against his other side, one side being pleasantly occupied by a drowsy colonel. “You can't possibly be – Murdock! How the hell can you be hard now, we just had sex?!”

“You tell me, lieutenant, colonel,” Murdock said with a shark-like grin.

Face looked down their bodies, and true enough, both he and Hannibal were still hard. Like rocks. As was Murdock.

“That was one hell of a chilli,” he muttered, then sighed when Murdock began making hopeful undulations against his side. “Okay, fine. One more time. But this time, I get to be in the middle.”

***

On the other side of the wall, BA cursed loudly and pulled his pillow tighter over his head. It didn't work all that well; he could still hear just about every sound they made.

“Oh, god, Hannibal, harder!”

“Shut up, fools!” BA roared, hammering angrily on the wall. “Can't a man get some sleep in here?”

Fuck. He really, really hated it when his plans came together all wrong.


End file.
